


Fly Me Home

by blowmeharry, captainhoran



Series: Fly Me Home [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Childhood, Children, First experiences, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:37:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blowmeharry/pseuds/blowmeharry, https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhoran/pseuds/captainhoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>8-year-old Harry loves making paper planes and finds his co-pilot when he moves next door to 10-year-old Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fly Me Home

“Harry, have you finished unpacking your room?”  
  
Harry ignores his mother, as most boys his age always do. He’s sitting in his new, practically bare bedroom. He originally had all the intentions of doing as his mother had told him, but he has gotten distracted. As boys his age often do.  
  
He’s surrounded by scattered white paper. A box of his mother’s office supplies somehow made its way into Harry’s room along with his things, and seeing all that paper, Harry did the only natural thing: he dumped them out, scattered them, and began folding them into paper planes.  
  
He makes his fifth plane, folding and creasing the paper with accurate precision. He sends it soaring across the room, and it hits the stark white wall opposite him tip first. It falls to the ground along with Harry’s little soul, the tip now crinkled and blunt.  
  
There are other less impressive models surrounding Harry’s most recent aviary success. Harry imagines them as fallen comrades, all fighting for the same cause of bringing Harry little, if any, happiness.  
  
He’s just starting on his sixth plane when he hears a knock on the front door. He doesn’t bother moving or getting up; he knows his mum will make it there first anyway. Besides, he’s not supposed to talk to strangers. This town is full of strangers.  
  
“Oh, hi there!” Harry hears his mother’s voice echo through the hall and into his room. The house was so empty, and it made Harry sad.  
  
“Jay, is it? I’m Anne! Oh, and who’s this, then?” Harry’s interest piqued slightly, but he still stares blankly down at his paper folding project.  
  
“Harry! Come here, please!” His mum calls.  
  
He ignores her.  
  
“Harry?” She tries again. After this failed attempt, Harry hears her say, “why don’t you come with me, then?”  
  
Harry panics slightly, looking at the state of his room. He doesn’t have any time to pick up before his mum is standing at his door with a boy peeking over from behind her.  
  
“Oh, Harry!” His mum exclaims, huffing and setting her mouth the way she does when she’s upset.  
  
“Are you making paper planes?” The boy asks, making his way around her and sitting next to Harry.  
  
Harry sits still for a moment, not sure how to talk to the boy next to him. He’s grateful for him, though, because when he looks up at his mum again, her angry face is replaced with a fond one. So Harry nods at the boy next to him. Perhaps he’s made a friend.  
  
“That looks really good, how do you do that?”  
  
“I—”  
  
“I’m Louis, by the way. I live next door.”  
  
“Oh—”  
  
“I’ve got a lot of annoying sisters. How old are you?”  
  
Harry looks at Louis for a moment, assessing whether or not he would be able to get a sentence out.  
  
“I’m eight.”  
  
“Oh cool, I’m ten. I turn eleven in December, though.” Louis takes a sheet of paper and begins to fold it.  
  
“You don’t look like you’re ten. You seem smaller than that,” Harry admits, finishing the last fold on his plane.  
  
“Shut up! My mum says I’ll grow nice and tall one day,” Louis replies in defense. He’s smiling though, when his reaction causes Harry to crack a smile of his own. “You have dimples! That’s so cute!”  
  
“Shut up! I’m not the one with stunted growth. You look like you could be seven, or something.”  
  
“Take that back! Mum says I’m average height, and I’ll grown more once puberty hits.”  
  
“What’s puberty?”  
  
“I’m not sure,” Louis says honestly. He takes his misshaped paper plane and lets it glide a few inches before it falls to the ground.  
  
“Why is he going to hit you?” Harry asks, watching the feeble attempt Louis’ plane made.  
  
“I don’t know. Mum says it happens to every boy.”  
  
“He’ll hit me too?” Harry asks in alarm, his most recent plane hitting the floor.  
  
“I don’t know, maybe not you. You just moved here.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s true.” Harry sighs in relief. He picks up his plane and it flies across the room.  
  
“Why are yours so much better than mine?” Louis frowns.  
  
“My dad taught me. I can teach you...if you want.”  
  
“Really?” Louis’ whole face lights up. It’s almost enough to cheer Harry up completely.  
  
“Yeah, you just fold it like this.” Harry demonstrates, letting Louis copy his movements on his own paper. Louis lifts his newly made plane at the same time Harry does.  
  
“Ready?” Louis looks over at Harry. They’re both poised in pre-flight positions. “Go!”  
  
Harry’s plane far out-flies Louis’, he tries to hide his triumphant smirk.  
  
“You’ll get better,” Harry encourages.  
  
“You’re a master pilot! A master paper pilot!”  
  
“You can be my co-pilot,” Harry assures him.  
  
“We can be like stick figures in a paper world!” Louis describes as his imagination goes into overdrive. Harry quickly jumps on board with Louis’ fantasy. He takes a piece of paper and folds it into a tent-like structure.  
  
“Oh no! There’s a fire at 10 Downing Street!” Harry exclaims.  
  
“Not the paper prime minister!” Louis catches on quickly. “Master Pilot Harry, you must do something!”  
  
“But I can’t do it without my co-pilot. Would you assist me, Louis?”  
  
“It would be my honour, Master Pilot.”  
  
They both stand now, and Harry grabs for the plane. Louis grabs a hold of it, too, and they guide it toward their paper structure.  
  
“Drop the water... Now!” Harry shouts as the plane flies over. Louis makes splashing noises and gestures with his hands toward Paper 10 Downing Street. “Mission was successful! Paper Prime Minister is safe once again!”  
  
“That was a close one,” Louis admits. His face is suddenly taken over by mischief.  
  
“I’ll say—Hey! No! I’m trying to fly a plane over here!” Harry protests as Louis tickles him.  
  
“Engage auto-pilot!” Louis says, not relenting.  
  
Harry laughs hysterically, falling to the floor from Louis’ force. He tries to fight back, but the older boy is stronger than him.  
  
“That’s the first time I’ve seen him laugh in ages,” he hears his mum whisper from his doorway. He immediately sits up and feels embarrassed. A woman whom he assumes is Louis’ mum is standing next to her with a fond smile.  
  
“Come on, boo, it’s time to go home. You can come back and play with Harry another time.”  
  
“But, mum!” he complains loudly, and Harry wants to protest with him.  
  
“Say goodbye, love,” his mum replies sternly.  
  
“Bye, Harry,” Louis says half-heartedly. He barely looks at Harry, and Harry can see his mouth scrunched up in disappointment.  
  
“Bye!” Harry tries to sound cheerful for the other boy, and he can see the corner of Louis’ mouth perk at his farewell.  
  
It’s hard to say goodbye at Harry’s age, he doesn’t have the power to assure he’ll ever see a person again. But Louis only lives next door, and that brings much comfort to him as he watches Louis take his mum’s hand and walk away.  
  
~~  
  
Harry looks at the outfit his mum had picked out for him in disdain. He was eight years old now, he doesn’t want to wear a T-shirt with a rubber ducky print. He grabs the shirt and stuffs it in between his wall and bed. There’s no way he could wear something like that on his first day at his new school.  
  
He may have been being ridiculous, but he doesn’t care. He has a lot of people to impress today, and nobody can tell him what to do.  
  
Despite his sudden desire for independence, his mum offering him chocolate chip pancakes is just something he can’t say no to. He only gets about halfway through his first stack when his mum gives him some news.  
  
“You’ll be riding with Louis and his mum to school today.”  
  
“I will?” Harry says with a full mouth.  
  
“Yeah, we’ll be switching on and off. We thought you two hit it off nicely the other day.”  
  
“He didn’t hit me.” Harry frowns, thinking about what Louis had said about puberty. Could she be referring to that?  
  
“Oh, no, dear. That’s a turn of phrase,” his mum explains. She sips on her coffee as she watches him stare at his pancakes. “Aren’t you going to finish?”  
  
“Not hungry anymore,” Harry shoves his plate away. His feet clap loudly against the ground, and he doesn’t stay to see his mum’s shocked expression. In the garage, he stares at the selection of shoes before him, a look of grief plastered on his face. He grunts at himself; should he wear his white trainers or the multicoloured ones?  
  
 _Why is this so hard!_ he scolds at himself, crossing his arms with distress. Neither seem to match his outfit, and he regrets his lack of footwear. If only his mum had bought him more shoes like his classmates’ parents had...  
  
A sharp cry of noise causes Harry’s head to perk up and a gasp to pass his mouth. He grabs the white trainers and slips them on, taking his sweet time to tie the laces correctly. He’d only learned how to do this a year ago, and he’s become impressed at his skills.  
  
“You do the loop de doop and pull...” he sings along to the tune, remembering what Gary from _Spongebob_ had taught him.  
  
Once he finishes, he clicks the button beside the door and watches the garage door ascend, exposing a dark teal car on his driveway. Harry grins excitedly when he sees the smiling face waving at him from the back of the car, and scurries to meet him.  
  
“Hi, Louis!”  
  
“Hello, little one,” Louis replies as Harry climbs in.  
  
“Harry! Your bag!” Mum comes running out of the house.  
  
“Oh...” Harry straps himself in. Louis’ mum smiles at him from the driver’s seat. “Hi, Mrs. Tomlinson.”  
  
“Call me Jay,” she insists. Louis scrunches his face up.  
  
“Oi! Why’d you hit me for?” Louis rubs his arm and half glares at Harry.  
  
“You called me little.”  
  
Mum hands Harry his backpack and leans in to kiss his forehead. He leans away and wipes at the dampness she left on his skin.  
  
“Mum, do you have to?!”  
  
Louis smirks, mumbling under his breath “little.” He gets punched again.  
  
They arrive at school and Harry has to leave Louis. He stays long enough to laugh at the kiss he receives from his mum.  
  
He finds his way around the building easily, remembering the tour the headmaster had given him and his mum. He sits down at a desk, looking around warily at the other students. He plays with his hands in front of him nervously; he’s never been good at new people. Louis was a first for him.  
  
He had hardly noticed the blonde girl sit in front of him until she spun around with a wide smile.  
  
“I’m Perrie,” she says, extending her hand.  
  
“H—Harry,” he replies, taking it.  
  
“You’re new, that’s so cool!”  
  
“Not really, I’m nervous.”  
  
“Don’t be! Everyone kind of hates me, but that’s okay.” She sighs slightly, and Harry notices her shoulders slump.  
  
“Why? You seem nice.”  
  
“I think it’s my hair! It’s too blonde.” She kicks her feet out from the side of the desk, staring down at her knee high socks. “School bites.”  
  
“I hear secondary is better,” Harry assures. He takes in her blonde pigtails and possibly over-cheery smile. Who could possibly hate her?  
  
Perrie kicks her feet out again and the girl walking by trips and glares at her.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry!”  
  
“Watch where you put your feet, fanny sucker!” She scowls.  
  
“I didn’t mean to!” Perrie tries to defend herself.  
  
“Who’s your new friend?” The girl turns her glare toward him.  
  
“I’m Ha—”  
  
“Nose picker, more like it.”  
  
“I don’t pick my nose!” Harry protests, his face bright red. He begins to stand, but the teacher walks in then.  
  
Harry drags himself through maths. It’s probably his least favorite subject, but he’s too lazy to categorise. He barely notices the time has passed when the teacher dismisses them for break. Harry gets up and walks toward the door, excited to see Louis again.  
  
“Hey, wait up!” Perrie calls from behind. She grabs his hand. “Will you be my friend, please?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“Thank goodness, I can finally tell mum I have one!”  
  
Harry’s face falls when she says this. Why was she bullied so much?  
  
“I read a lot, do you read, Harry?” Perrie asks.  
  
“Yeah, I read sometimes.”  
  
“Have you read the Harry Potter books? I feel like I am one with Hermione Granger.”  
  
“Those books have too many words for me. I saw the movie though...” Harry looks around the playground expectantly.  
  
“No, you have to read the books. Way better.”  
  
“Hmm.” Harry sighs. He steps out onto the playground. He’s confused when Perrie doesn’t join him. “Aren’t you coming?”  
  
“I usually don’t play during break, I just read. It’s safer.” Her eyes are full of worry.  
  
“I’ll protect you. Come on!” He heads towards the swings and starts to swing. He smiles when Perrie sits on the swing next to him.  
  
She laughs maniacally as she swings. “This _is_ fun!”  
  
“Hey! These are my swings!” A boy, who seems to be several years older than them, shouts as he walks toward them. Perrie immediately stops swinging, and seems almost to tears.  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t know,” Harry says calmly as he stands. He gestures for Perrie to stand as well.  
  
“You can’t just walk away from me.” He’s being ridiculous, and Harry honestly doesn’t know how to handle the situation. He had wanted to show Perrie she doesn’t have to be scared all the time, but things aren’t panning out the way he’d hoped. The older boy grabs a hold of Harry’s carefully picked shirt. “Who picked this out for you, your mummy?”  
  
There’s a crowd forming around them now, and the older boy’s friends cheer him on.  
  
“No,” Harry scoffs. “I picked it.”  
  
“Please put him down,” Perrie whines, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
  
Harry isn’t scared, but he’s not stupid either. There’s no way he can take this guy. He’s simply too small. The bulldozer of a boy shoves Harry backwards, causing him to grunt loudly as he lands on his bum. Harry tries to scramble his way back to standing position, but the boy suddenly pins him, and raises back his fist.  
  
“Fight, fight, fight!” The crowd chants as Harry squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for the blow that never comes.  
  
“Hey! What are you doing?” It’s Louis’ voice, and Harry’s eyes instantly snap open. Louis grabs the boy’s fist and pulls him off of Harry. “Jimmy, that’s just plain rude.”  
  
Perrie walks over to help Harry up, but Harry can’t take his eyes off of Louis. Neither can Perrie, from what Harry can make out. Louis may be small compared to the rest of the older kids, but Harry never thought he looked so big.  
  
“Louis, what the heck?” Jimmy protests. “They’re just little second years.”  
  
“Hey! We’re third years!” Perrie pipes up. She immediately slaps her hand to her mouth.  
  
“Harry’s my friend,” Louis explains.  
  
“Sixth years aren’t friends with third years,” Jimmy says. “That makes you weird, gay boy.”  
  
“What?” Louis’ face falls a bit, but he stands his ground. “Jimmy, don’t be that way.”  
  
“Arse pounder,” he sneers and walks away from Louis.  
  
The crowd disperses once they realise no one is going to get hit. Louis walks over to Harry, despite what his friend had said.  
  
“Hi, Lou—” Harry begins.  
  
“My hero,” Perrie swoons, staring wide-eyed up at Louis.  
  
“—is,” he ends his sentence, eyeing Perrie strangely.  
  
“That was just like in Harry Potter when Ron, Hermione, and Harry were all—”  
  
“Perrie, no spoilers,” Harry says to stop her from rambling.  
  
“Oh, right.” Perrie pretends to zip up her mouth in a miming gesture. She purses her lips and stares back at Louis.  
  
“So what are you two doing?”  
  
“We were swinging,” Harry explains.  
  
“Can I join?” Louis asks with a smile.  
  
“Please protect us,” Perrie says quite quickly.  
  
“She gets scared easily,” Harry says. He sits back down on the swing that had caused such a scene previously.  
  
Perrie confesses her love to Louis by the third break of the day, and Harry laughs himself breathless. She takes Louis’ denial strongly, though, saying that he’ll come around one day.  
  
~~  
  
“The paper prime minister needs our help!” Harry shouts. They’ve created a much more intricate paper 10 Downing Street this time. It even says “10” on the door.  
  
“What’s wrong with him this time?” Louis asks expectantly. Harry looks to the floor, at a loss as to what peril he could be faced with.  
  
He grabs a sheet of paper and promptly crumples it into a ball. He launches it at the paper structure and exclaims, “an asteroid has struck!”  
  
They save the day in time for tea.  
  
“Hey, Harry, my birthday is next week,” Louis comments.  
  
“Oh, yeah. You’re going to be eleven.” This makes Harry’s heart sink a bit. They’ve spent practically every day together since Harry moved here and started going to school with him. The number eleven shouldn’t scare him as much as it does.  
  
“Yeah, I’m having a party. Want to come?”  
  
“Will there be cake?”  
  
“And ice cream.” Louis folds another plane out of the stack of paper before him. He’s getting better, but still not as good as Harry.  
  
“I’ve never been to a party before,” Harry admits, playing with his shirt with shame.  
  
“It’ll be like hanging out with me, just with more people,” Louis tells him, causing Harry to smile with relief a little. “It’s gonna be fun, I promise!”  
  
“Okay. My sister is going to be here for winter break,” Harry announces. “Can she come?”  
  
Louis’ face goes a little red, but he nods. What was he so embarrassed about? “Yeah, of course.”  
  
“Louis, your mum called!” Mum calls in to Harry’s room. “Want to stay the night?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
“Chicken dippers for tea!” She announces. “Oh, and Gemma will be here soon!”  
  
“Is that your sister?” Louis asks when mum walks away. Harry nods.  
  
“We should add more buildings,” he says.  
  
“Maybe Buckingham Palace?”  
  
“Yeah!” Harry sets to work on a paper structure.  
  
“Have you ever had a girlfriend, Harry?” Louis asks as he watches Harry work.  
  
“Ew, no. Girls are gross.”  
  
“But you’re friends with Perrie,” Louis points out.  
  
“Yeah, but she’s _Perrie,_ ” he says as-a-matter-of-factly. “I don’t wanna kiss her.” Harry scrunches his nose.  
  
“Do you want to kiss me?”  
  
Harry drops his paper. He stares at Louis for a brief second before retrieving it. He laughs. “Ew. No. You’re a boy.”  
  
“You don’t think boys should kiss boys?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“I think I might try it one day, I dunno.” Louis shrugs.  
  
“I’ve never even kissed a girl,” Harry admits. He hadn’t felt so embarrassed about it at first, but now that Louis’ experiences are being thrown at him, he feels like a child to him.  
  
“I haven’t either. Maybe I should try that first.”  
  
“Harry, your sister is here!” Mum shouts from down the hall. Louis stands, so Harry does too.  
  
“Hi,” Gemma greets when she sees Louis. She’s caught off guard, so she keeps her distance.  
  
“Iced Gem!” Harry says gleefully.  
  
“Hazza!” Gemma runs toward him and scoops him up in a big hug. She’s the same age as Louis. She looks at the boy and smiles. “Who are you?”  
  
“He’s mine, you can’t have him,” Harry says quickly.  
  
“There’s plenty to go around,” Louis says, smiling at Gemma. “I’m Louis, I’m a sixth year.”  
  
“I’m a sixth year too!” Gemma announces happily. “Are you excited for Secondary school?”  
  
“Yeah! My teacher’s given me loads of things to look over.”  
  
“Me too. We get to choose our own courses and everything.”  
  
“What’s secondary school?” Harry tries to indulge in the conversation, feeling very excluded.  
  
“It’s where I go after sixth year,” Louis explains.  
  
“Oh.” Harry’s heart sinks. “So I won’t see you anymore?”  
  
“Just not in school,” Louis tells him, looking a bit sad himself. Harry looks at the ground and tries to ignore the knot in his throat.  
  
Gemma begins laughing out of nowhere. “I punched someone yesterday.”  
  
“Really?!” Louis laughs as well, his eyes practically popping out of his head.  
  
“Gemma, that’s not nice!” Harry crosses his arms, offended.  
  
“He was being a jerk. He deserved it.”  
  
“What did he do?” Louis asks, both boys eager to know.  
  
“I gave my book report on _Holes_ and Mike laughed at me. He told me my voice was too quiet and manly so I called him a bum hole and punched him.”  
  
“Gemma,” an outsider’s voice says disapprovingly. Harry turns to see his mum shaking her head at her daughter. “You can’t solve your problems by hurting others. I thought I taught you better than that.”  
  
Gemma rolls her eyes. “He started it.”  
  
“That doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level.”  
  
“But I couldn’t have just stood there! I refuse to look weak.” She crosses her arms, absolutely sure of herself.  
  
“Next time try to _talk_ to him, yeah?” Mum seems to give up, running a hand through her hair and turning for the kitchen. “Tea will be ready in a few.”  
  
“Come on, Louis. Let’s go play some more.” Harry tugs on Louis’ hand.  
  
“Can I come?” Gemma asks sweetly.  
  
Harry starts to say “no,” but Louis cuts him off with a loud “sure!”  
  
Harry slumps his shoulders and follows them to his room in defeat. Tonight was supposed to be fun, and now his sister is here to ruin everything.  
  
“Do you play video games, Gemma?” Louis asks politely.  
  
“Yeah, all the time! You?”  
  
“Yes! What’s your favorite cartoon?”  
  
“Scooby Doo!”  
  
“No way, that’s mine too!”  
  
Harry glares at the pair of them, crossing his arms and sitting on his bed.  
  
“Oh, what’s this?” Gemma asks as she walks toward Harry’s shelf.  
  
“No, you’re stepping on Buckingham Palace!” Louis and Harry shout in unison. Louis dives for the paper structure that Harry had been working so hard on. Gemma lifts her foot awkwardly. At least Louis hadn’t gone completely mental.  
  
“Paper planes?” She raises an eyebrow, but she’s slightly amused. “Did you make these all by yourselves?”  
  
“Harry made most of them, he’s really good at it.”  
  
“Can I try?” She asks.  
  
“I don’t know, it’s kind of our thing.” Harry’s face practically glows when Louis says this.  
  
“Okay. Got any board games, Hazza?”  
  
“I have monopoly, but some of the money is missing.”  
  
“Oh! Have you read Harry Potter?” She asks, pointing to the book.  
  
“No, Perrie lent that to me.”  
  
“Is she your girlfriend?” Gemma asks teasingly.  
  
“No!”  
  
“I think she is.”  
  
Harry shakes his head violently. “No way.”  
  
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Gemma asks Louis curiously.  
  
Louis’ face flushes, hiding his expression by looking at Harry. “No...”  
  
“I had a boyfriend yesterday, but not anymore.”  
  
“Why’s that?”  
  
“I punched him.” Gemma doesn’t sound the least bit upset.  
  
Harry can’t help but feel put off by their whole conversation, as well as the fact that he had been ignored the past thirty seconds.  
  
“They’re airing Doctor Who re-runs tonight,” Harry says to no one in particular.  
  
“Yeah?” Louis asks excitedly, turning away from Gemma entirely.  
  
“Tea’s ready!” Mum calls in from the kitchen. The three of them file out of Harry’s room and into the kitchen.  
  
“Chicken dippers!” Gemma celebrates, taking a seat next to Louis. Harry stops short, realising his seat had been taken, and sits next to Mum. He subtly glares in her direction.  
  
“Are you three getting along alright?” Mum asks, tearing a piece of chicken apart.  
  
“Just fine,” Gemma beams.  
  
“Louis has five sisters,” Mum explains.  
  
“They’re all younger and really annoying,” Louis sighs.  
  
“Do I get to meet them? We could play dress up!” Gemma’s entire face lights up.  
  
“Louis is staying over tonight, maybe he’ll take you over there tomorrow?”  
  
“Also my party next week,” Louis adds.  
  
“Oh, right, your mum informed me of that.”  
  
“I’m going too,” Harry decides to mention, shooting Louis a desperate look.  
  
“Yes, master pilot.”  
  
Mum and Gemma exchange a look, but Harry sees both of them shrug.  
  
“Mum can we watch Doctor Who on the telly?” Harry asks as he bites into his third chicken dipper.  
  
“Brookside is on tonight, but I guess I could miss one episode.”  
  
“Thanks, mum!” Harry rejoices. He grabs his plate and chunks it in the sink. “You finished yet, Louis?”  
  
“Yeah,” Louis says with his mouth full, swallowing the last of his chicken.  
  
Harry runs to the sitting room and flips on the telly to BBC Three. The title screen of Doctor Who pops up.  
  
“I haven’t seen much of Doctor Who,” Louis admits.  
  
“Oh,” Harry says.  
  
“Harry’s obsessed with this show,” Gemma says, sitting on the floor next to Louis.  
  
“That’s the fourth doctor,” Harry explains as Tom Baker shows up on the screen. “He’s the one with the hat and scarf. That’s Sarah Jane, his companion.”  
  
“Do you have ice cream?” Louis asks him, clearly not paying attention to a word Harry’s saying, which only makes him slightly irritated.  
  
“Check the freezer,” Harry says in defeat.  
  
“Come with me.”  
  
“But I’m already sitting down,” Harry complains, continuing to watch the screen. Elisabeth Sladen walks into a room with a lot of controls, the door shuts behind her.  
  
“Please?” Louis begs.  
  
“Sarah Jane is trapped, Louis!” Harry sighs. He scrambles to his feet. “Fine.”  
  
“Thank you.” He smiles sweetly, and Harry feels less bad about having to stand.  
  
“Mum,” Harry shouts into the freezer. “Do we have any ice cream?”  
  
“Top shelf!” Mum calls from her room. Harry stands on his tippy toes and grunts, trying his very best to reach it. He flinches when a hand brushes over his to grab the carton.  
  
“Here, I’ll do it.” And just like that, the taller boy hands the tub of ice cream to Harry.  
  
“Ugh, it’s vanilla,” Harry complains, looking genuinely upset. “I was hoping for chocolate.”  
  
“Well, do you have chocolate syrup?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Harry opens the fridge, slightly antsy because he knows Doctor Who is still playing. “Get out some bowls.”  
  
“Okay.” Louis clatters around in the cupboards for a while before finding what he was out for.  
  
“Found the syrup,” Harry proclaims, holding it out to Louis. Louis sets the bowls down on the counter.  
  
“How do we get the ice cream out?”  
  
“I don’t know, you’re the almost-eleven-year-old.”  
  
“Get a big spoon, I guess...”  
  
“Okay.” Harry searches through the drawers until he comes up with one. “Does this work?” He holds it up in Louis’ face without looking.  
  
“Easy there, you almost took out my eye!” Louis exclaims, his breaths a little shaky. He takes the spoon from Harry’s hand, and presses it into the frozen vanilla. He grunts loudly, using both hands to do so.  
  
“Do you need help?”  
  
“I can do it myself,” Louis snaps at him.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Not even ten seconds later, a huge clump of white flew out of the carton and onto the counter, knocking ice cream all over Louis’ shirt. All at once he begins shouting unfamiliar words. Words Harry’s been taught to never say.  
  
“What’s taking so long?” Gemma peeks out from the living room. Her hand covers her mouth almost instantly as she sees the mess upon Louis, laughs spilling out of her mouth. Harry’s struggling to keep a straight face himself.  
  
“I hate everything,” Louis spits out, not even giving anyone proper warning before taking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground in an aggressive manner.  
  
Harry’s eyes rake over the older figure momentarily, but he looks away before anyone can notice his ogling. “I’ll find you a shirt.” He sighs.  
  
Upstairs, Harry digs through a pile of clothes on his bed until he finds something that might fit the older boy. He holds his favorite Christmas jumper to Louis’ face with a shrug.  
  
“It’s hideous!”  
  
Harry’s forehead creases together, his voice soft. “It’s cute...”  
  
“I mean, it’s not that bad.”  
  
Harry tosses the shirt back in the drawer. He walks over to his bed and pulls out the shirt he had stuffed in behind it the first day of school. He tosses it to Louis without a second glance. “Wear this or stay shirtless, I don’t care. I’m missing Doctor Who.” And with that final statement, he runs downstairs.  
  
Tom Baker opens the door and a giant bug falls down on him, and dramatic music plays as “To Be Continued” pops up on the screen.  
  
“I missed all of it!” Harry complains.  
  
“It was a good episode,” Gemma states, eating ice cream from her spot on the floor. “Where’s Louis?”  
  
“Putting a shirt on.” He sits and grabs his bowl that Gemma had been nice enough to finish serving for them. “Thanks.”  
  
Louis walks in, then, wearing the rubber ducky shirt.  
  
“Cute,” Gemma laughs hysterically.  
  
“I think so,” he says, sneaking a wink at Harry. Harry can’t help but smile widely into his ice cream.  
  
“One more episode before bed,” Mum says when she walks in.  
  
“But, mum!” Gemma sighs.  
  
“Alright, two more.” Mum has always been a pushover.  
  
Two bowls of ice cream later, Sarah Jane Smith is safely back in the TARDIS. They wash up and head to bed before Mum can come out to yell. Gemma has her own room, thankfully.  
  
Harry looks around his room and back at his twin sized bed. He crawls in and Louis crawls in after him, shrugging the blankets over their shoulders. The lights are off, but Harry can tell Louis is looking at him.  
  
“Are you still afraid of the dark?” Louis whispers.  
  
“No, that’s baby stuff.”  
  
“Then why is there a nightlight on?”  
  
Harry blushes, but he’s thankful that Louis can’t see him. “It’s pretty, okay?”  
  
“Hmm, okay. I’ve got one too,” he says honestly.  
  
“Really?” Harry’s astonished. He can feel the warmth of the proximity of Louis’ body to his.  
  
“Yeah. Do you ever just...” Louis trails off. Harry turns to him, patiently waiting for him to continue. “Never mind.”  
  
“What were you gonna say?” Harry’s voice is barely above a whisper.  
  
“Nothing. You’ll learn about it when you’re older.”  
  
Harry clenches his fists. He hates it more than anything when people tell him that. “No. Tell me now.”  
  
Louis shifts around, trying to reach a comfortable position. “Ever touch yourself?”  
  
Harry bats his eyelashes. “Huh? I always do, I mean—doesn’t everyone?” He frowns. Sometimes Louis was really confusing.  
  
“No, not like that... Like, down there.”  
  
“What?” Harry thinks about it. “When I go to the bathroom, I—”  
  
“No, Harry. Not that.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry says, despite the remaining confusion.  
  
“Geez, do you even know where babies come from?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Harry pauses for a second. His heart begins to race painfully in his chest; he doesn’t know how to answer. “The sky?”  
  
“No, Harry. People have sex.”  
  
“Oh... I’ve heard about that on the telly.”  
  
“Have you seen it?”  
  
Harry’s face is still red, mostly from his embarrassment. Louis probably thought of him as nothing more than a child now. “I—What is it?”  
  
“It’s when, well. When two people like each other a lot, they sort of hug... But it’s a little closer than that. And I guess it feels really good. And then boom, babies.”  
  
“What does touching yourself have to do with that?”  
  
“It makes you feel good too,” Louis replies. Harry feels the bed shift as he shrugs.  
  
“But I don’t get it... I touch myself all the time. Like, I’m touching myself right now.” Harry pokes his skin to show that he is. “I don’t feel anything.”  
  
“No, it’s not that kind of touch, Harry. It’s...” Harry feels Louis’ hand at the bottom of his stomach, and it trails down a bit. “Here.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry says, a sigh passing his lips. He feels an unfamiliar sensation below his waist as Louis’ hand makes contact, and it sort of feels cold? But also good like he’s peeing? “But—I still don’t get it. Why?”  
  
“I don’t know, it just does. I usually do it in the shower.”  
  
A gasp escapes Harry’s mouth, and he frowns. “Am I going to pee myself?” Harry hasn’t wet his bed in years; how embarrassing would it be for Louis to witness that?  
  
“No, just let go.”  
  
“But—” A sort of whimper leaves his mouth, and he does as Louis had said. It does almost feel like he’s peed himself, but there’s a stickier substance gathered in his underwear. Almost immediately, his eyes start to water at the uncomfortable feeling. “Louis, why is it all wet? Why does this happen?”  
  
“I don’t know, it just happens. Anyway, yeah, that’s what that is.”  
  
Harry breathes softly, feeling fully awake now. “Louis.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Do _you_ touch yourself?”  
  
“Yeah, I told you. When I’m showering mostly.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry says, absent-mindedly. He bravely snuggles into the other boy. “You’re my best friend, Louis.”  
  
“You’re mine, too.”  
  
Harry smiles, feeling his eyes droop. “Night, Lou.”  
  
“Night, Haz.”  
  
~~  
  
Harry grasps the brightly wrapped present, and holds it close to his chest. He had picked this out all by himself, and he just knows Louis is going to love it.  
  
“I brought my make up stuff with me this time. Fizzy is going to love it!” Gemma squeals as they walk the short distance to Louis’ house. “What do you have there?” She points at the box held in Harry’s hands.  
  
He grips it protectively. “Nothing.”  
  
“Let me see it.”  
  
“No! It’s for Louis!” Harry shouts, becoming very frustrated. His sudden temper takes its toll, causing him to trip over his own feet. The box flies into the grass, his knee scraping against the pavement. Tears begin to run down his face.  
  
“Hazza!” Gremma gasps, dropping to the ground. “Are you okay?”  
  
Harry shakes his head, his lips parted slightly as he continued to cry. “My knee.” He points to the large gash on his leg. It’s a simple scratch, but blood is already starting to ooze out.  
  
“Come on,” Gemma says, helping him up. “There’s bandaids at Louis’ house. You’ll be okay, I promise.”  
  
Harry nods slowly, not truly convinced.  
  
“Harry!” Louis greets excitedly when he opens the door.  
  
“Hey, Louis.” Harry grins, his knee practically forgotten about.  
  
“What happened to your knee?” Louis’ eyes immediately find the scratch.  
  
“He fell. Like babies do,” Gemma explains.  
  
“I’m not a baby!” Harry protests. “Besides, you practically pushed me!”  
  
“Oh, here’s his present.” Gemma hands the slightly dented box to Louis.  
  
Louis takes it and smiles. “Thanks.” He starts to run off with it, but stops in his tracks. “I’ll get you a bandaid!”  
  
Harry sticks his tongue out at Gemma as he passes her to enter Louis’ house. She rolls her eyes and departs to find Louis’ sisters.  
  
“Harry!” Perrie exclaims as she runs up to him. She has a party hat on her blonde head, and she’s grinning from ear to ear.  
  
“Oh, hey, Perrie.” Harry smiles at her.  
  
“It’s so weird seeing you outside of school!” Her voice is full of awe.  
  
“I play with Louis every day,” he replies nonchalantly, but he knows how cool it sounds to her.  
  
“That’s so cool! I wish I could have boys over.” She looks down, but then her head snaps up, replacing her sad expression with a genuine smile. “Anyway, what’s up?”  
  
“I don’t know. I’ve never been to a birthday party before,” Harry admits. “What do you do?”  
  
“Want to play a game? Mrs. Tomlinson set some stuff up in the front room.”  
  
“Here’s your bandaid!” Louis announces.  
  
“Oh, I forgot about that.” Harry takes the bandaid from the boy’s hand. It has Scooby Doo print on it.  
  
“When will we play dress up?” Gemma butts into the room, holding her makeup kit in one hand.  
  
“Dress up?” Louis makes a face. “I’m not a girl.”  
  
“I never said you were.” Gemma winks at him.  
  
A pack of Louis’ cousins come running by.  
  
“Twister, let’s play twister!” One of the boys say.  
  
“Let’s go to my room,” Fizzy suggests.  
  
“Okay!” Gemma follows her. She turns to Louis. “You coming?”  
  
“I guess so,” he replies. Harry follows Louis.  
  
“Who’s that girl?” Perrie asks Harry, pointing at Gemma.  
  
“My sister.”  
  
“Oh. She’s pretty.” Perrie stays close by Harry’s side.  
  
“Yeah, well, she’s related to me.” He grins at that.  
  
“Cheeky.” Perrie punches his arm.  
  
“Alright, birthday boy, sit down,” Gemma demands once they’re in Fizzy’s room.  
  
“What are you—hey!” Louis violently protests as Gemma grabs his face and applies lipstick. Harry and Perrie simply giggle on the side. The bright pink is sloppily covering his lips, causing Harry to laugh the loudest.  
  
“You’re going to look so pretty, Louis!” Fizzy declares, giggling into her hands.  
  
Louis quickly reaches for a napkin, wiping his lips clean. “That wasn’t funny.”  
  
“I thought you looked pretty,” Harry jokes.  
  
Louis looks down at the lipstick that Gemma is still holding. “Okay, fine, you can do my makeup.”  
  
“Oh, goodie. Time for eye shadow.”  
  
“Can’t forget the blush!” Fizzy sifts through Gemma’s make up box.  
  
“Does Lottie still have her straightener?”  
  
“Yeah, why?” But Fizzy understands a second later, her eyes bulging and her mouth wide open. “I’ll get it!”  
  
“Can I open my eyes now?” Louis asks when he doesn’t feel the pressure of Gemma’s eye shadow anymore.  
  
“Can you do my makeup too?” Perrie asks suddenly. Gemma looks over at her and she backs up slightly.  
  
“Yeah, sure! Come over here,” Gemma invites with a warm smile. “You can open your eyes, Louis.”  
  
Louis stands, and Fizzy enters the room again. Harry eyes her warily when she gives him a grin.  
  
“Ew!” Gemma shouts. Harry looks over just in time to see her push Louis away.  
  
“Sorry, I—”  
  
“Don’t even. That was gross!”  
  
Perrie is sitting on the bed and giggling madly. What had happened?  
  
Fizzy plugs in the straightener and looks at Gemma expectantly.  
  
“Harry, come here!” Gemma demands.  
  
“No,” Harry backs away slowly. Gemma snaps the straightener together, sighing as she moves closer to Harry, Harry continuing to move further away.  
  
“I won’t do anything bad!” she assures him, but Harry’s eyebrows drop to his eyes.  
  
He shakes his head violently. “I know what that is. It will burn my head.”  
  
Louis sighs over the two. “Leave him alone, Gemma. He’s only eight.”  
  
Suddenly Harry’s entire perspective has changed. He shoots Louis a glare, wishing he didn’t have to act so superior all the time. “Give me that.” He snatches the device from Gemma’s hands, warmth immediately hitting his fingertips.  
  
“Ow!” he shouts in agony, rubbing his hands on his thighs.  
  
“You’re not supposed to grab the hot part.” Gemma sighs.  
  
Harry blushes with shame. “I knew that...”  
  
“I’m gonna get a brush,” Gemma tells them, standing up. She shoots her brother a cautious look. “Don’t touch it.”  
  
The second she’s gone, Harry and Louis kind of just stare at each other before both grabbing for the straightener. Louis gains access to it first, grabbing Harry’s curls.  
  
“I’ve got this,” Louis says, already starting the terrible task.  
  
“No!” Harry exclaims, continuing to back away from the device, despite his confidence seconds prior to this.  
  
Louis sighs. “Harry, please?”  
  
Harry takes off in the direction of Louis’ room, but notices the lights are on, catching a glimpse of his sister searching for a hairbrush. Instead, he runs to the room next door, shutting the door behind him. He hides behind the bed, breathing heavily.  
  
The door opens momentarily; forgetting to lock it had all been Harry’s doing. Harry tries to calm his breathing, but curiosity takes the best of him, and he can’t resist poking his head from the side to see Louis entering the room. He gasps softly and moves back to his hiding position.  
  
“Oh, Harry! Wherefore art thou? You can’t hide forever,” he hears Louis say. Harry’s convinced he’s off the hook until the bed shakes behind him, a body falling over his.  
  
“Get off me!” Harry murmurs underneath the larger body crushing into his ribs.  
  
“You can’t hide from me,” Louis says, grinning, holding the straightener up in the air. There’s conveniently a plug in behind them. “Now hold still.”  
  
Finally, Harry sits still in defeat, feeling the heat in his hair in a way that’s more comfortable than painful; it doesn’t hurt a bit, to be honest.  
  
“Kissing is gross,” the older boy randomly says.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Oh, I kissed Gemma.” He runs a hand through Harry’s hair, causing his body to jolt at the sudden contact.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Take it from me, kissing is disgusting. I don’t want to ever kiss someone again.”  
  
Harry almost frowns; it surely couldn’t have been _that_ bad. At least, the couples on the telly seem to think differently of it.  
  
“But yeah, go ahead and yell at me. Because she’s your sister and all.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry says, not particularly caring about that. “Ouch!” he hisses in pain when he feels a sharp tug on his hair.  
  
“Sorry, I’m almost done.”  
  
Harry looks around, noticing he’s never been in this room before. “Where are we?”  
  
“My parents’ room,” he answers. “I don’t come here too much.” Louis puts the straightener down, finally. “I’m gonna see if there’s a brush in here. I’m scared to face Gemma.”  
  
“Okay.” Harry giggles. He briefly considers asking him whether it would be different with a boy like he had told him before.  
  
“Oh my God,” he suddenly says, the sound of a drawer being yanked open.  
  
“What?” Harry moves to sit beside Louis. “What is that?”  
  
Louis pulls out the mysterious object, blue and shaped like a... like... “I─I don’t know. Oh wait, maybe...oh.” Louis’ face goes blank, and the object falls to the floor. “Oh, God. Ew!”  
  
“What?” Harry asks with surprise. “What is it?”  
  
Louis wrinkles his nose with disgust. “Nothing. Let’s leave.”  
  
“No, tell me!”  
  
Louis shuts the drawer and heaves a sigh of distress. “Um, remember that thing I showed you last week?”  
  
“About touching myself?”  
  
“Yeah, erm, my mum...”  
  
“Oh...” Harry’s eyes widen momentarily as everything falls into place. “Ew!”  
  
“Let’s not talk about it...”  
  
“But I don’t get it... What does she do with it?”  
  
“Are you seriously...” Louis drawls, but sighs in defeat. “You know how we have penises?”  
  
Harry blushes at the word. “Yeah.”  
  
“Girls have vaginas.”  
  
“Oh. What do they do?”  
  
“It’s basically a hole, and that’s where it goes...” Louis trails off, his face a slight shade of pink.  
  
“Oh,” Harry says, nodding. He begins to piece the new bits of information together. “Is _that_ where babies come from?”  
  
“Yes.” Louis blushes. “Now can we please go?”  
  
“But is that the only way?” Harry voices his curiosity. “Can boys do it to each other?”  
  
Louis stares at him blankly, like he’s never had the idea. “I don’t think so, no.”  
  
“But what about kissing boys?”  
  
“That’s not gonna get anyone pregnant...”  
  
“Oh.” Harry briefly references back to hearing that at some earlier point in his life, but it’s still hazy for him. Still, he doesn’t want to bother Louis with any further questioning.  
  
“Louis? Harry?” Jay calls from the kitchen. “It’s time for cake and prezzies!”  
  
Louis’ face lights up; it’s almost as if he’d forgotten it was his birthday. Harry follows him out the door, nervously petting at his hair.  
  
“No fair! I was gonna do that!” Gemma complains when she sees Harry’s hair.  
  
“Sorry, I got to him first.” Louis walks over to the cake that’s sat on the table. “Is it chocolate?”  
  
“Of course,” Jay says cheerfully. Harry can’t help but look at her a bit differently now. She lights the candles and Louis’ face starts to glow.  
  
Happy Birthday is sung and Harry realises that Louis is now three years older than him technically, if he did his math right. He wonders what Louis wishes for as he blows out his candles.  
  
“Who wants the corner?” Jay asks as she begins to cut the cake.  
  
“Me! Me!” Perrie jumps up and down in excitement.  
  
“I want the piece with Louis’ name on it!” Harry says quickly. He realises how dumb that sounds, but smiles when Jay hands him the piece.  
  
All of the children eat peacefully, and Harry can literally see the finally relaxed look on Jay’s face. She divys up ice cream onto plates.  
  
“You’re eating Louis,” Gemma jokes as she elbows him in the side.  
  
He savors every bite.  
  
After all of the party guests have icing stained lips and are high on sugar, they begin to get restless.  
  
“Wherefore art mine presents?” Louis asks dramatically, looking around the kitchen.  
  
“‘Wherefore’ means why,” Perrie explains, her intelligence shining through.  
  
“Oh.” Louis gets distracted by the pile of gifts Jay brings him.  
  
He opens them one by one, swooning at the lot of them. Action figures and toy cars are high on his approval list. Harry panics internally, suddenly afraid his gift isn’t good enough.  
  
“Alright, last one.” Jay hands Louis the brightly wrapped and slightly dented package. “Who is this from?”  
  
“Me,” Harry says nervously.  
  
Louis attacks the paper, no time for saving the carefully wrapped package. Harry had wrapped it himself, but he wasn’t going to say anything.  
  
“Haz, this is perfect!” Louis exclaims as he holds up the paper plane making guide. It comes with all sorts of colorful paper to make them with. Harry bites his lip and looks down.  
  
“I just saw it when I was out with mum...” he explains, trying to sound modest. Like he hadn’t spent every second thinking of what to get him for his birthday.  
  
“Thank you!” Louis stands to give him a hug. “We can make these all the time now!”  
  
Harry can’t help the blush that forms across his cheeks, but he hopes no one else can see it.  
  
~~  
  
The closest Harry has ever felt to someone, well something, would probably be his teddy he had so brilliantly named “teddy.”  
  
Teddy found his way to the closet, buried beneath other toys that held little to no significance to Harry. It seems as though the only thing—well, person—that could make Harry happy anymore was his best friend Louis. He spends all of his time with the boy, mostly making paper planes. He’s learnt so much from him in such a short period of time. School was focused primarily on Louis, playing sports with Louis, eating lunch with Louis. Perrie is there too, but she just wasn’t Louis.  
  
It’s not always easy, they fight a lot. During recess mostly. Louis likes to pick fights with Harry during sports. This should put Harry off, but it only makes Louis that much more fun for him. Louis hit him by accident once, and immediately apologised and took his face in his hands to check for bruising.  
  
Harry doesn’t talk to Louis about touching himself anymore, he finds it to be an awkward subject. But he still thinks about it a lot, mostly when he’s alone.  
  
Their paper society is prosperous and chaos free, thanks to them. They’ve created loads of building and paper people. They still don’t have a name for it, but “papertropolis” has been thrown around a few times.  
  
Harry is happier than he’s ever been. Even since before his dad left him, he’s never been so happy.  
  
And now this.  
  
“I’m moving.”  
  
“What?” The words don’t even register, that’s how much Harry doesn’t want to hear them.  
  
“Mum got a new job in Doncaster,” Louis explains. He’s kicking at the ground, which is where his eyes are directed.  
  
“You’re leaving me?” Harry’s voice kind of breaks. It had only been three weeks since Louis’ party.  
  
“It’s not my choice...” Louis’ mouth is set to where the corners are just sticking down. Harry feels like he can see through Louis’ apathetic mask easily, but he doesn’t poke at it.  
  
“I don’t want you to go.” Harry can feel his heart breaking, but he’s not sure how to describe it. It was all new. It was kind of similar to how it felt when he had realised his dad was gone for good.  
  
“I’ll come and visit,” Louis insists, sounding just as sad as Harry feels. “If I can. I promise.”  
  
“Pinky promise?” Harry wonders if Louis will think that’s too childish.  
  
“Yeah...” Louis holds out his pinky. Harry links his with Louis’, sighing in slight relief.  
  
“What about Perrie?” Harry asks, thinking of someone but himself for once.  
  
“I already said goodbye to her.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
They stand in silence for a while, staring at their feet. Harry looks up every now and then to notice that Louis’ been standing still for a very long time. Then he hears it. The sniffle.  
  
“Louis?” he says softly, the other boy’s head perking up to reveal the moisture on his face.  
  
Louis laughs and wipes the tears away. “Just...I hate goodbyes.”  
  
“This doesn’t have to be a goodbye,” Harry says. He’s impressed by himself, sounding all adult-like. He rolls back on his feet. “When are you leaving?”  
  
“Today.”  
  
“Oh.” Harry hates the empty feeling he gets in the bottom of his stomach. He doesn’t understand it, either. He’d eaten a ton at dinner time. Maybe Mum could make an early tea.  
  
“I would have told you sooner, but I was afraid,” Louis admits, fumbling with his fingers nervously.  
  
“Afraid that I wouldn’t be your best friend no more?” Harry squints at the sunlight.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I’ll always be your best friend. No matter what.”  
  
“You’re mine, too,” Louis says with a shy smile, tears starting to gather in his eyes. Harry hugs him tightly, never wanting to let go. He lets his face smash into Louis’ chest, and he can’t help but cry. He feels a hand in his hair and another on his back, rubbing tiny circles sympathetically.  
  
“I love you,” Harry says. Friends can say that, right?  
  
“Me, too. Wait, I made something for you.” Louis releases Harry from his grasp and reaches into his back pocket. “I kind of folded it more than necessary...to fit in my pocket.”  
  
“A plane?” Harry asks, taking it from him. He examines the colorful paper.  
  
“I wrote our names on it,” Louis explains. He rubs the back of his head.  
  
“It’s perfect.”  
  
“That way, like—just think of me, yeah?” Louis has a nice hole forming in the ground now, thanks to his incessant kicking.  
  
“Wish paper planes were real,” Harry says. “So you could fly home.”  
  
“Louis, we have to go!” Jay calls from the car. His sisters are all piled in the back.  
  
“Bye, Haz.”  
  
“Bye,” Harry says half-heartedly. He briefly considers the aspect of kissing boys, but lets it go. He watches Louis walk to his car, watching the car drive away. He wishes he wasn’t such a baby, but crying seems to be all he’s good for now.  
  
He plays with the edges of the paper plane Louis had given him, tears splashing on the paper and making the color fade where they hit.  
  
“Bye,” he whispers, staring blankly at the car that was just a speck in the distance now.

**Author's Note:**

> Let us know what you think and if you want more!


End file.
